


Fluorescent Adolescent (s)

by ValDeCastille



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Jon is a hot mess, Modern Royalty, Modern Westeros, R Plus L Does Not Equal J, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, i think it's fun?, inspired by the Arctic Monkeys, just a giftie for a friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:26:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValDeCastille/pseuds/ValDeCastille
Summary: Three young people with a specific goal and a sweet dragon unaware of everything.





	Fluorescent Adolescent (s)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CallMeDeWitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeDeWitt/gifts).



> Helloooooooooo! 
> 
> This one-shot is a gift inspired on this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=od2q-e5K-Zc) for one of the most amazing people I have ever encountered: my baby Shawn aka CallMeDeWitt. 
> 
> He’s brilliant, caring, funny, smart and so much more. Go read his stuff if you haven't! (Tho he still owes the world a new chapter of-- ok, ok, shutting it now) 
> 
> Happy bday, bby!!! I love you to the moon and back a thousand times, and I hope you like your giftie which I made with all my heart just for ya!! 
> 
> What is it, you ask?
> 
> Well, I have no idea whatsoever lmao. Bear with meeeeee.
> 
> It’s messy and plotless, yet there is a plot to it? Bahahaha, I’m sure you’ll get what I mean when you read.
> 
> I just felt like writing and I did. An idea popped and my fingers began typing. I took inspo from the many things we’ve talked about, from AM because, well, I had to, and from many other random things (random like us). 
> 
> You will find that the characters in this fic are so unlike us in so many ways (SO many), but so very much like us at the same time. *winks* 
> 
> Your Val <3 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. I know the song and the logo are not from the same album but… yeah, aesthetics.
> 
> Beta credits go to the always awesome Dino! <3 Thank you, you!!!

 

  

**_Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness_ **

“So you can have mighty Margy, but I can’t have Daenerys?” Jon said with a haughty grin as he made to fish out his silver lighter and flicked it on, holding the light over his fag. “Bollocks,” he spat before tucking the lighter back in his pocket for safe keeping.

Robb rolled his eyes as he leaned on the balustrade of the school’s roof, amusement clear on his grin. His brother was regularly a silent and broody person, ignoring the rest of the world for he considered himself beyond their petty worries and lame interests… except when he happened to fancy a girl.

Then, _then,_  his Dornish hot blood would mix with his Northern fierceness, and whoever was the subject of his attention was therefore doomed.

The lady in turn was bound to fall head over heels for the Sand Wolf.

However, Robb thought it unwise to actively and deliberately look for trouble, and _this_ was trouble. Jon could have whoever he wanted so why --just why-- did he have to want  _her_?

“My girlfriend is not a princess.”

“But she is a duchess, an heiress, and the granddaughter of the most powerful woman in the country,” Jon retorted, loosening his tie and unclasping the first button of his shirt. It was bloody annoying when Robb took his role of big brother too seriously and tried to lecture him as if he was any better. The _righteous_ older brother had shagged half the school.

“Still, not a princess.”

The two eldest Stark boys admired the span of emerald waves that gleamed closest to the horizon under the beat of the killer sun before them. Pesky seagulls squawking past the cliff that held their pristine school up high, flapping black-tipped wings, pressing webbed feet over golden sand. The pair profited from the last minutes of their free period with the sight of bubbling foam and the soothing song of the sea. From up high, the boys liked to observe their uniformed classmates, getting to know their environment, taking in whatever details they could, cherry picking from the lot of girls that would be added to their long list of conquests; all vain pride, expensive bags, and designer shoes.

Well, Jon still did. After Margaery, Robb had changed his ways, but he’d never held it against him. For a girl like Margy, he was sure he’d stop sleeping around as well. _Jammy bastard_.

“Her brother is the King,” Robb pressed further in a futile attempt to stop his brother.

Jon scoffed, “So what?”

“Do I have to spell it out? She can’t date.”

“Olenna Tyrell is not fond of you and that didn’t deter you from pursuing her precious rose.”

“Bloody hells, Jon, stop with the comparisons. It’s not the same.” It really wasn't.

“It irks you that the old lady doesn’t fancy you at all, innit? Perfect Robb Stark, beloved Robb Stark, liked by all except--”

“Alright, alright…” His brother’s resolve crumbled, drawing a pleased smile from Jon. “...Laugh all you want about me. It still doesn’t change the fact that you’re playing with fire.” _Quite literally._

Jon blew a cloud of wispy, white smoke in his brother’s face, his lips forming the killer grin that had captured so many hearts. “I don’t know why you’re so worried. I wanna shag her, Robb, not marry her.”

Robb’s face took on the most inconceivable, most unamused, blank look Jon had ever seen. It was obvious that his words had left little to no comfort behind.

“Oh, really?” he asked with attitude. “That’s all? Father and mother won’t like it.” That was the young auburn-haired man’s last argument, though he knew it would have no effect whatsoever, except maybe a roll of Jon’s grey eyes.

Jon snorted, entertained. “I’m already a failure to them, so why not keep up the good work. Father will get over it and _your_ mother will have one more reason to continue calling me the black sheep. I really don’t give a wanking toss about any of it, Robb. I want Daenerys, therefore, I’ll have Daenerys.”

Shaking his head, Robb could only smirk, mirroring his brother’s gesture as he placed an arm over his brother’s back. “Well, then, go get her.”

 

 

**_Everything's in order in a black hole_ **

Margaery was elated when her favourite duo brought word of the newest, shiniest accessory; Daenerys Targaryen. She did always fancy herself a new project.

The young princess was the new girl in school, leaving ruckus wherever she went. The sparkle in her lavender eyes and her moon-kissed hair entranced all. She was the first Targaryen ever to be allowed schooling outside of Dragonstone Castle which meant, of course, everyone had their eyes on her.

‘The symbol of a new era’, the press called her.

 _What a poor attempt from King Rhaegar to clean his name after such an ugly divorce_ , Margaery reflected, taking out her notepad and looking at it lovingly. She had finally finished her life’s plan the night prior --which included the date and embellished planning for her engagement and wedding to Robb Stark; the date of her soon-to-be entrance, followed by graduation from uni, the opening date of her first jewellery store, among some other _very_ important things-- and she was proud of herself.

She remembered her objective as the princess entered the classroom, smiling brightly, and exchanging pleasantries. The bright young woman excelled in just about everything, and civility was her vice. She held propriety in high regard and her mannerisms were of sheer lady-likeness, Margaery almost felt an incessant need to slap her silly. Though, the Young Rose had to admit she was beautiful, way more beautiful than any other woman she had come across.

Margaery kept close watch on her newest prospect, assessing her from her uncomfortable seat in Biology.

_Are dragons not supposed to bring Fire and Blood in their wake?_

After observing her for some time, Margaery found that she wasn’t particularly excited about befriending the country’s darling princess. But if Jon wanted her as he said he did, then she’d help. And so, she did.

“I’ve gathered all you need to know about her, sugar plum,” Margaery told her best friend after school as she sat in the backseat of the car, eyes on the rear-view mirror as she fixed the odd angle on the hoop of her gold earrings.

Blue eyes found the shine of mirrored glass as Robb sped his convertible into the fastly dipping sun. A look was found there, one of those that insinuated further more than what was being given, one that made her knickers wet.

Jon turned to kiss her forehead. “My dearest Margy, my angel.”

 

 

**_Oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had_ **

Jon had been causing more trouble than usual, appearing on the front pages almost weekly and Robb knew exactly what he was doing, the wanker.

His parents had already called him a handful of times, beseeching him to control the pouty, black-haired tornado.

‘Lord Jon Stark steals a motorcycle’

‘...Is arrested for speeding’

‘...Gets a perfect score at the national evaluation’ (ok, that was a good one)

‘...Smokes in forbidden areas’

‘...Buys a five million dragon mansion’ (ok, that wasn’t bad either, only lightly ostentatious)

‘...Pursues beloved princess?’

 _There we go._ The juicy stuff. Robb had personally called the media to print and spread that one.

The world had gone mad. It was impossible that the outrageous and ill-mannered Lord Jon could have anything to do with the sweet, innocent Princess Daenerys; the jewel of the Crown; the country’s treasure.

Robb huffed, smiling. It wasn’t even true, Jon had yet to make his move, but of course, he wanted all attention on him before he did, rebelling yet again against… whatever he was rebelling against. His brother was a mystery to him if he were to be honest.

An admirable mystery.

Jon had the dauntlessness he lacked as Robb had always been afraid of disappointing his parents, so he abided their every request.

Jon found his birth --out of wedlock-- to be his worst disgrace yet Robb thought of it as his greatest fortune. Jon’s life had started with a scandal and he was sure it’d end up with one. Jon had the power to do everything he could wish, something Robb did not.

And he adored him for it. How could he not?

Robb was uncertain about so many things in life-- he was failing several subjects, he was (involuntarily) heir to Winterfell and he would have to enter the army next year, not knowing if he’d ever come out, etc-- but the two he wasn’t were Jon and Margaery.

Everything else was unimportant.

Looking through the newspaper on the table and the telly in the teacher’s room, mobile in hand, Robb was sure King Rhaegar would call their father demanding an explanation.

Stars were about to fall, but Jon would rise as winter came for the last princess.

Margaery opened the door and looked at him proudly as she sat on his lap, hand travelling down to his trousers.

 

 

**_Likes her gentlemen not to be gentle_ **

Everything was going according to plan. Westeros’ eyes were upon him, judging him, waiting for his next move.

There were many who hated him, yet many more who adored him. That was the best thing about the spotlight. People had thought he would become a low-profile, shamed man; crestfallen because of a sinful past that didn’t even belong to him, but he had not allowed the many to shun him. He had grabbed his worst enemy and made it yield to his pleasure and convenience.

Among the many outcomes that had come with that, he had gained his father’s wife’s respect, if not her love. And that sufficed his childish yearning for a mother’s embrace, even if she still called him names and looked at him wearily. He had conquered Catelyn Stark’s heart and now even she had his back.

A thrill of excitement ran through his spine as the news of his summons by the King himself, demanding his presence at the Red Keep to explain his intentions with the Princess of Dragonstone and his dearest sister, made it to his ears.

He relished in the fact that the King had been cruelly played by a seventeen-year-old lordling.

Last thing on his list was to devise the greatest scandal of his life, yet.

He only needed to do what the press already took for a fact. That Lord Jon Stark, the devious second son of the honourable --not so honourable-- lord of Winterfell had taken a liking for the Princess Daenerys and had corrupted her, softening her fall to disgrace with his own body.

He meant no  _real_ harm to the princess, but no one had to know that.

Their next step was simple, at least in theory. Enter the Red Keep, come out of it with the Princess. Simple.

Then Jon would take her to his recently purchased home where she’d spend the night with him in any way she wanted --his ethics were clear on the matter though. But one thing was certain, she’d fall, if not now, later.

She would.

The black Suburban rode by swiftly on the empty streets of King’s Landing, beneath the midnight moon as Jon, Robb, and Margaery solidified the last details of their plan. Being distinguished nobility members, it would be rather odd if the guards didn’t let them through, especially when there was a party going on and the King himself had summoned Jon.

Jory and two other Stark men accompanied them. A kidnapping needed various hands involved.

Robb didn’t want to think about the number of dragons they had paid to persuade the men into helping them carry out their mission. It was not every day that your masters asked you to abduct one of the royal family’s members.

As they approached the King’s avenue that led to the North gate of the Keep, Jory abruptly made a left turn, speeding over the permitted limit.

“What the fuck, Jory?” Margaery exclaimed, confused by the turn of events.

The man remained impassive, only speeding further with a heavy foot on the pedal.

“Jory!” Robb roared with a threat to his tone.

Jon didn’t have time to utter a word when Jory stopped the Suburban in front of the ancient Sept of Baelor, pulling them out of the car with the help of the other two guards and then speeding away, leaving them behind utterly confounded.

Jon cursed his luck the moment he decided to trust a couple of hired hands.

“What are we--” Margaery started complaining when the doors to the Sept opened, revealing the answers to all their questions.

It was a precious sight. Oh, such a lovely, delightful sight.

He did not fret, he did not waver.

All his future plans crumbled into pieces before him yet he could not find a single piece of him that cared.

All this time, Jon had thought himself an instigator.

He was merely a puppet.

Robb gaped.

Margaery’s eyes opened wide.

_Surprise._

For all he had forecasted and calculated, he had never expected for fire to be waiting for winter.

There, at the end of the aisle, stood Daenerys Targaryen with a Septon next to her, the man looking torn and incredulous, however, intrigued and satisfied with the knowledge that his name would forever be written within the pages of history.

 _Others take her_. Robb’s hands became clammy, soaked in sweat as he foresaw what was about to transpire.

 _Now, there is a dragon._ Margaery salaciously smiled as she immediately felt drawn to the girl.

Pulling Robb by the wrist, she quickly followed Jon who was already walking towards her. A future with the dragon-girl as her best friend --a true best friend-- crossed Margaery’s mind and she couldn't help the plans that immediately began to form beneath her crown of brown hair.

“You were right, brother, Princesses can’t date,” Jon affirmed, his voice coated with pure mischief.

Robb couldn’t do anything but applaud his brother from his spot.

Daenerys was wearing a white sumptuous dress, her hair pinned with tiny silver dragons, her face covered with stylish makeup. She looked every bit regal and lethal, all at the same time.

The Sept was lavishly decorated with fruitful expense that filled the high walls with the scent of flaming, red roses, black silk hanging in calm smiles between strong pillars. The world filled with honey sweet carnations of crimson colouring even if the only attendants were the five of them.

Music began playing as the Septon took his place and beckoned them to take theirs.

Over Daenery’s shoulders hung a dark red cloak with the menacing three-headed dragon on it, almost daring whoever got close to do anything against it. In her hands, a direwolf roared on a field of white.

She smiled dangerously and received them with gleaming eyes, a shade darker than any of them had ever seen.

The massive doors closed with a loud clunk.

 

 

**_Remember when you used to be a rascal?_ **

“Jon,” she said with a sweet voice. “Care to join me in the seventh hell?”

A crooked grin grew on the corners of his lips as he swiftly took the cloak from her hands and pulled it over his shoulders without uttering another word.

Robb and Margaery looked on from the bottom of the stairs, witnessing the moment. The four of them were doomed already so they better enjoyed it.

Oh, how Father and Catelyn would despise him for it.

Oh, how the _world_ would _loathe_ him for it.

“It would be my pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ahm... yeah. That happened. 
> 
> I really don't know how they didn't see that one coming. 
> 
> Thanks for stopping by!! <3<3<3<3


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